A silence greater still
Than this minus twenty silence; desire
Heavier than the snow stacked up
On roofs of schools
Which have to close because of it
You come over with sleds, blue and red
And say nothing, refuse tea.
3 pairs of trousers and 4 sweaters and
I’m squeezing into the buttons of my coat,
Pushing your car when it gets stuck in the snow.
We slide across the ice hockey pitch,
Pull ourselves up the hill
The wind throwing itself
Through the gloves and socks
I’ve stacked up on my hands.
Sitting in our sleds, looking over the city
I think we’ll never make it down alive,
And I’m glad we’re here regardless
But you pull my sled-string from the snow
Wrap it around your hand, and take off
The speed and weight and thin plastic
Pushes the snow out and away before I feel it
Instead I feel the ice beneath, speeding us on
I feel the scrape and dip of every curve
We are caught in the whoosh against the wind
The snow pushes its way between my layers,
Our sleds hit against each another,
Urging us steeper, faster, steeper, faster,
We scream into the rush, rush, rush-
I’m alive, and in conditions such as this.